


On the Benefits of Sound Reasoning

by NewWonder



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Crack, Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls, I regret everything, Knotting, M/M, Topping from the Bottom, Will ain't taking no shit from no one, and porny, basically this is just stupid, everybody is OOC, stupid crack, stupid cracky porn, stupid porny crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewWonder/pseuds/NewWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Will doggedly refuses the sexytimes (that is, until he doesn't), and Hannibal is the only sane and sensible person around.</p><p>A fill for a wonderful <a href="http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/2246.html?thread=4059334#cmt4059334">prompt</a> on the kink meme - only not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Benefits of Sound Reasoning

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a lovely prompt on Hannibal kink meme. I fully intended to write a serious, deep, insightful, fill for it. I'm not sure when it all went astray.
> 
> There's nothing serious about the fic below. This is stupid porny crack. Or cracky porn (which is still stupid). It's the complete opposite of what the OP wanted. Everybody is OOC. I regret everything. I am sorry. Please don't hurt me.
> 
> P.S. I no has a beta, so any nitpicking would be muchly appreciated.

So Will suddenly smelt in a way that unsubtly hinted that his organism would like to be kindly fucked into the wall several days from now on. So apparently that was a big deal.

It was like every single person around him had never ever had sex before, or even didn't get to the first base. _Jack_ was sniffing him, for fuck's sake. He attempted to be subtle about it. He did not succeed. One did not need to be an empath to notice the way Jack desperately tried to behave as if nothing remotely unusual had happened (which it hadn't), but at the same time, stared at Will as if he were the most unusual thing Jack had ever seen in his life (which in itself was saying a lot).

When two unbonded alphas, an agent and a would-be murderer, tried to scent him at the same time and then tore each other up a bit in a jealous fit, Will finally lost it.

"The fuck," he politely inquired. Jack stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"You never said you were an omega," he finally offered. He looked – surprised. Will felt the first stirrings of a headache. Jack actually didn't know, however that could be possible. That had to mean the others didn't know, as well. And those were the bright beacons of hope guarding the US citizens' safety and wellbeing in the infallible ranks of the FBI. No wonder the Chesapeake Ripper finally got bored with his shtick and laid low; it couldn't have possibly been all that much fun to try and outsmart the people who, for years, couldn't decipher the mystery of their colleague's gender.

"Have you looked into my files?" Will finally suggested. Jack shrugged.

"I saw it said you were an omega, but you didn't really look – and behave – like one, so..."

What did he say about the Chesapeake Ripper? Scratch that; it's a wonder they managed to catch anyone at all. The meagerest shoplifter had one over them.

 

"I suddenly got a rash all over my body, and it _itched_. The doctor suggested that I stop taking the pills, and it helped. End of story. I'm still looking for a new pill, though," Will ruminated.

"I have an endocrinologist I can refer you to, an old friend of mine," Hannibal helpfully suggested. "She might be busy as of now – she's rather popular, you see – but if you wait just a few days..."

"Doctor Lecter," Will suddenly interrupted him from the couch, where he sat heavily with his head in his hands. "Please tell me you didn't think I’m a beta."

"Of course not. You gender is written in your paperwork, it's the first thing I've learned about you when I took Jack Crawford up on his offer. Did somebody mistake you for a beta?"

"Somebody? Try the whole FBI. I don't have a husband, I don't have kids; I've got 'brains and guts' instead," Will quoted. "What kind of omega does that. So I must be a beta. Now that's some sound logic."

"Indeed." Lecter fixed something on his table. "How close are you to your heat?"

"Fuck if I know. The pills messed up my cycle rather badly, it can suddenly come in the middle of the day four days before its time and then be late for a month. It's worth it, though, if it stops people from gawking at me like Jack did this morning."

"You shouldn't blame him too much," Lecter coughed. "You do smell rather – obvious. I'd recommend you reschedule your plans; judging from the smell, I reckon you won’t have time for them in the next few days."

"For real?" Will took in the slight, uneven flush on the face of his ever cool and unruffled psychiatrist. "Shit, I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't visit until the heat comes and goes."

"Will you be fine? I take it you haven't had a suppressant-free heat in a while. I am told it can be rather overwhelming, especially after a long deprivation; especially if you don't have anyone to help you along through this."

"I think I'll manage," Will shrugged. "Lots of omegas don't have a significant other, but they still do fine at the end of the day. I'm well used to this, Doctor."

"I would be glad to offer my assistance," Hannibal carefully suggested. Will shrugged.

"I have a deal with a beta who lives in a village not very far away; she comes whenever I'm having my heat, to feed my dogs. I usually stock up on snacks beforehand, too. I'm all good, Doctor." He glanced at Hannibal's face that looked carefully blank, and added as an afterthought: "Thank you, though... I think."

The doctor looked more calm and dignified than ever. Something was out of place, Will sensed.

"That was what you offered, wasn't it? To look after my house and my diet. You didn't mean your dick, did you."

Never before had the doctor looked so elegant and imposing. Will sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Oh god, you did. That was kinda rude, Doctor, I'll let you know." 

"Isn't it hard for you, to spend your heat all alone?" Hannibal inquired, the very picture of prudence. Will squinted at him suspiciously.

"Not at all. I mean, I've had real live dick, and it's marginally better than toys, but I find it – comforting, to not be obliged to care about some irritating, clingy alpha attached to the phallus I'm sticking into myself. I don't need that bother, thank you very much."

"You're putting a barrier between yourself and other people, Will. Could it be because–"

"You're still not fucking me. Bye!"

 

Dr. Hannibal Lecter was now happily fucking him into the mattress, Will's old bed furiously creaking like it was going to fall apart any given minute. Will was... surprisingly okay with that.

Okay, maybe actual real dick was _that much better_ than toys, no matter how wide a collection Will had acquired over years. Or maybe it was the personality of its bearer. Will did like Hannibal Lecter more than any other alpha who tried to pursue him over the years (there honestly weren't that many, though, and Will respected Hannibal more than all of them combined). Or maybe it was the way Hannibal suddenly twisted and snapped his hips _just like that_ , lighting Will's whole body on fire, and _oh god–_

"Yes! Fuck! Harder! Harder, Hannibal, please, fuck, it feels– it feels– fuck! Ohhh, yes, like that, harder, NOW, h-ha– ah! harder, come on, c-come – ohhh!"

The orgasm hit him so hard he nearly blacked out. His whole body suddenly became a wreckage of sobs and shudders, a bone-breaking convulsion seizing him, making him arch and scream for all he was worth. And Hannibal _wasn't stopping_. He rammed and rammed – Will thought he dimly heard him growl through the static of white noise in his ears, – and it was starting to hurt, his walls so sensitive after the orgasm that it felt as if the entirety of Will was a single naked nerve. But finally he felt Hannibal come, his satisfaction spreading inside Will, burning him from within, even more patent than if Will sensed it with his empathy.

After he went still, Hannibal waited for a moment or two, standing motionless over Will, securely locked inside him, and it almost felt as if he were Will's alpha, Will's master, the one to defer and obey to. (Good thing it was just a fuck of convenience, Will thought uneasily. Who would have thought the benevolent, compassionate Dr. Lecter could be so – commanding. Wouldn't want to have this imposing, baffling, unnaturally perfect man for his alpha, now would he?)

Then Hannibal unhurriedly plastered himself all over Will's back, carefully maneuvering them onto their sides so as to not let Will flop down on his wreck of a bed like a wrung-out cloth. He languidly nosed at Will's sweaty neck, delicately licking behind his ear. Will laughed and squirmed against his will; he was ticklish. It was a dark secret of his that he never disclosed to anyone, and now Dr. Lecter knew. This dalliance was quickly becoming dangerously intimate.

(That bully in middle school obviously didn't count. He found out by force, the brute. He, too, was an alpha. Later a newly-presented Will took great relish in chasing him off his porch with a fishing rod. The ex-bully still occasionally wrote Will love letters. Will would have been mildly surprised with how well his wooer could rhyme – if he gave a modicum of a fuck, that was.)

It was good, he mused sluggishly. The hot, sweaty, sticky body firmly wrapped around him, joined with him from within; it felt good. Will felt tired in a warm, peaceful, mindless way; all his thoughts were gone, scattered around and blown far, far away, and the contentedness that hummed through his body was the only thing that remained. He felt satisfied; maybe even happy. He didn't exactly know what 'being happy' entailed, after all, so it wasn't like he could recognize the feeling.

The alpha beside him smelt delicious, too; sharp and bright and dangerous, and a bit like home. The smell wrapped around Will like a blanket, clinging to him, caressing him gently; and Will dimly recognized the danger: the imprint of the scent after the mating was, after all, the first stage of bonding, – but he felt too tired to get dressed or kick Hannibal out; too tired to move. The sweet, easy, unhurried laziness enveloped him, mixing with the heady smell of the alpha pressed scorchingly close to his skin (Will carefully avoided calling him 'his alpha', because he didn't want to; because it wasn't, couldn't, shouldn't be, true.) As he closed his eyes and drifted away, though, body at once heavy with exhaustion and weightless with lax euphoria, there was only one thing that bothered Will:

He still didn't know how Hannibal persuaded him to put out.

It wasn't the heat; Hannibal smelt good, for sure, always had, and Will was hot and flushed with the encroaching hormonal turmoil, the ache between his legs unwelcome yet insistent. But he was always good at keeping his desires to himself; all he wanted back then was to go home to his quiet empty room with a selection of his favorite toys in a cardboard box under the bed, and keep himself occupied until the itch subsided, and then take a shower and walk his dogs, and maybe have fried eggs for dinner.

But Hannibal just kept talking.

He wouldn't touch him, wouldn't even sit near him; he kept well clear of Will's immediate reach. His tone was as sensible as ever, maybe a dash more soothing; and he kept going on about natural instincts and physiological needs and arrested development, and the inimitable, unique chemistry of spending a heat with an actual partner, letting their pheromones blend and mutually change their bodies, allowing them to fully mature and blossom. Maybe it resembled breastfeeding, in a way, he pondered aloud, all calm and unruffled. An essential factor to raising a healthy child. Of course, the baby could be perfectly healthy and happy even without the nursing, but oh, the wonders of the inner workings of human body, the miracles of the intricate biochemical processes that formed and shaped it as it were.

And then they had a quiet companionable dinner at Hannibal's, and then Hannibal drove him home, and suddenly Will thought that maybe spending the heat with a partner instead of a random toy, for the first time in what, ten years? – well, maybe it wasn't that bad an idea. Certainly worth trying, at least.

And Hannibal conveniently didn't seem to mind.

He was nosing into his hair right now, in fact, mumbling husky lilting words in a strange language and slowly sliding the tips of his fingers down Will's belly. The movement raised goose bumps on Will's skin. The muscles of his stomach clenched and trembled; Will shivered, feeling the chill of the sensation course through his body, and fell asleep.

He didn't dream. He woke up safely pinned to his bed by a larger body, arms tight around him, legs tangled, and – oh. That was Hannibal's soft dick, still inside him, and damn but that felt unpleasant.

He wriggled around, trying to get the offending body off. Hannibal's grip clenched even tighter, vice-like, obstructing Will's breathing. That felt uncomfortable but also weirdly nice, Hannibal... clinging on to him, like his life depended on it. He was half-awake now, pale eyelashes trembling over dark eyes. The black abyss of his blown pupils nearly swallowed the irises. He looked dangerous like that, nothing like the mild, well-respected psychologist; he looked unfamiliar and – enticing. He murmured something, his accent so heavy after sleep the words were garbled and virtually incomprehensible, and nuzzled into Will's temple, tickling his forehead with fine soft hair. Will reluctantly huddled closer and felt Hannibal's dick grow harder inside him.

The sensation was – peculiar. Weird, uncomfortable, but strangely exciting. Will experimentally shifted his hips and felt a puff of hot breath on his nose. Hannibal was watching him with heavy-lidded eyes, propped on one elbow. He looked mussed and undignified. He looked good enough to eat.

Will bit him on the shoulder, because he suddenly wanted to. Hannibal smiled. It was a breathtaking smile, confident and lazy and predatory at the edges. He said:

"Do go on, Will."

And Will did.

He did not know what possessed him; he never went that crazed during a heat before. But his body was suddenly ravenous, so desperate for touch and movement Will thought he might choke on his own hunger, – and it seemed to know just what to do to drive itself mad with pleasure, to wring out of Hannibal everything he had to give and then some.

Will pushed Hannibal down on the bed; the man wordlessly complied. For some reason he kept smirking. Right now, Will couldn't be bothered to decipher why; but he could damn well punish Hannibal for that inappropriate smirk.

He rose, nearly letting Hannibal's dick slip out, and waited.

Finally the man tried to thrust, and Will let him go in maybe half an inch, and then it was back to barely keeping contact. Will's whole body screamed, desperate to be filled, and Hannibal under him regarded Will with scrutinizing eyes, but still, Will wouldn't budge.

Finally he moved, a tiny little bit, sinking down on Hannibal's dick (it felt so huge and hot, and Will was clenching hungrily around it, but the game still wasn't over.) And then he rose, and it was back to square one.

Hannibal let out an unwilling, frustrated growl, and Will smiled, absently trying to push his sweat-soaked hair out of his forehead and mostly failing.

He won. That damned smirk was gone, and he rather liked the bared teeth that took its place.

In one fluid motion, he sank all the way down and groaned, a guttural sound that seemed to reverberate through Hannibal's body. He laid his hands on Will's hips and squeezed, but otherwise wouldn't push him, letting him take control.

Will mustered a mighty audacious smirk of his own and started moving in earnest. 

Will's track record in the sex department wasn’t exactly outstanding. He'd had three dicks of varied sizes and a large, wide-ranging collection of toys he had methodically worked his way through with nearly scientific interest. He had small dildos (which lay abandoned in a dusty corner of his inventory), and dildos so large he still felt vaguely fearful looking at them. He was doggedly persistent, though, and consequently found out they actually fit, with some work. Still, that wasn't an experience to be repeated often.

His alphas' cocks, he remembered better than their faces. (Certainly better than their eyes.) The first one was unremarkable in shape and color, reasonably large and reasonably curved, and it brought Will reasonable satisfaction. The alpha asked to marry him, later. Will put on his pants and said bye. He was never good at telling no to desperate people.

Several years later, he heard that the alpha still wasn't married. He tried to stay away from all news about him ever since. Maybe he was afraid to hear the same thing, again.

But still, it was a fairly boring cock. Will fell asleep straight away after the knotting.

The second one, though, was huge and fairly menacing. It almost tore Will inside. Needless to say, it felt awesome, and its owner clearly knew how to use his tool. It was a shame the owner of that excellent cock was kind of a dick himself, though. After that experience, Will's already very nearly nonexistent desire to have a family instantly deteriorated into nothing. He had his job, and if he wasn't exactly happy falling asleep with it, it was still better than the other options he had. With the drugs, the other alphas thankfully didn't come on to him, and Will was fairly satisfied with that.

Nothing like the satisfaction he experienced feeling Hannibal's cock inside, though. It wasn't the biggest, the longest or the thickest Will had ever seen; but it was well above average, and there was something about Hannibal's presence that made the sex so much more than getting fucked on a fairly needed dick. There was the need to obey – something Will had never really felt with an alpha – spiced up with mindless lust and desperation, sprinkled with playfulness that made Will want to bite, suck and lick, to card his fingers through Hannibal's hair, muss up its gelled perfection, and tug, and pull, and tease, and leave him burning, and then give up and give in, relinquishing the power he held over the alpha, and follow the desire he could read so clearly in the alpha's eyes. There was the perfect fit – of their bodies, of their personalities, of their needs and desires.

There was the choking need to hear him growl.

And Will reveled in the ease with which he could produce all sorts of sounds from Hannibal. He could see him try to hold it down, to keep his calm even in the middle of the tornado they were caught in together, but then Will would move his hips just so, and sink down on Hannibal entirely, and just barely graze his neck with blood-stained teeth; and Hannibal's eyes would go dark and fathomless, and it almost scared Will how much that look on Hannibal aroused him.

He clawed and teethed their orgasms out of Hannibal, and then fell over him, slumped in a graceless heap, shaking like a leaf and dripping with sweat. And Hannibal caught him and held him, brushing Will's damp hair from his forehead with strong, confident fingers. He was back in control, and if his body shuddered when it shot load after load of semen inside Will's body, Hannibal wouldn't let it show on his face.

He licked the wound where Will was sluggishly bleeding. There were punctures in the skin, a row of teeth marks, deep but neat and clean. The blood trickled down to Will's belly, nearly black on Will's pale skin. Hannibal lapped at it, picking droplets of sweat with his tongue and looking for all the world like a gourmand savoring a refined meal.

Will wanted to laugh. Nothing ever changed, least of all Hannibal. He tried to cough up a chuckle and found out he was too tired for it. He fell asleep in Hannibal's arms. When he woke up, the knot was gone, but Hannibal was still there.

It was nice. Will reminded himself to not get used to it. Nothing nice ever lasted.

"Will," Hannibal said. "How do you feel?"

"M'fine," Will croaked. "Thirsty."

He made a move to roll over to the edge of the bed, but Hannibal easily grabbed hold of. He restrained him, effortlessly, and said in a light tone:

"Please, do not trouble yourself. I have everything we need, right here." His voice suddenly sounded sensuous, the 'r's slowly sliding from his lips, their rumbling viscous and sticky. He petted them with his tongue before letting them roll from his lips; the puffs of his breath felt hot against Will's skin, raised goose bumps on his nape.

Hannibal swept his hand to show the rows of drinks, the basket of fruits, the plates with cold appetizers that crowded the small table. The smell was mouthwatering; just as expected from his sophisticated chef slash psychiatrist. Will stretched out a hand to grab the nearest glass but Hannibal caught his hand.

Blinking with bleary eyes, Will stared at Hannibal's palm, clutched firmly around his hand. The exhaustion seeped through his body like rubbing alcohol through cotton, making his hand shake finely. He felt weak, powerless, like a newborn kitten. He wanted to stay in this bed forever, by Hannibal's side, and never come out.

Hannibal smiled, not unkindly, and brought a glass to his lips. It was some ruby red juice; blood orange. It tasted a bit bitter, but Will greedily gulped the liquid down to the very last drop. He let Hannibal hand-feed him the unnamed delicacies; some of them, Will barely recognized, and some tasted familiar but thrice as delicious as those Will had tried before. He caught Hannibal's fingers with his lips, mouthed at them, tracing the subtle flavor of skin, and it made the taste of blue cheese so much better.

He ate everything Hannibal offered him; slices of cold meat, juicy pieces of fruit, honeyed nuts with cinnamon and pepper, tiny tarts with berries. He chased the droplets of juice that escaped down Hannibal's arms with his tongue, lapping sloppily, and sucked the honey off Hannibal's fingers. He feasted upon good food, and he devoured the sense of Hannibal’s presence, desperate to never feel hungry again. Hannibal silently let him, his eyes smiling.

When the plates were empty and Hannibal's palm fell at his side with a final brush of Will's hair, Will lifted it and pressed the knuckles to his mouth; just because he felt like it. Because this was his dessert.

He met Hannibal's gaze and saw it darken.

He felt uncomfortable in his sweat-drenched bed, sheets soaked with semen, his skin sticky, salty and undoubtedly smelly. But it seemed he had to bear with it a bit longer. Hannibal was certainly not keen on the idea of letting him go, even to the bathroom.

 

"Well, doesn't somebody look like he's had a good time," Zeller whistled. Will fidgeted. His shirt wasn't really doing anything to cover the plethora of bruises and bite marks, and besides, the bruises under his eyes were plenty prominent. "Feeling good, cowboy?"

"Better than ever, actually," Will gave up on trying to fix his collar and absently studied the grisly body. "Shall we start?"

"I wish I had shown Dr. Lecter your file," Jack remarked somberly. "He must have thought you a beta, too. Maybe he'd have treated you differently if he knew what we know now."

Will choked a bit. Jack and Beverly gave him funny looks, but fuck if Will gave a damn. Hannibal was a lying liar who lied, and he was in for big trouble.

 

"You wouldn't have liked the alternative explanation," Lecter shrugged. "But I did know you were an omega, all along. It wasn't obvious, but it was – noticeable."

"Well, it's good to have at least one intelligent person around," Will groused. Hannibal seemed amused, but he didn't offer any commentary. "How did you actually know, though? I'm guessing not from my file, after all?"

"Why, of course not, my dear Will," Hannibal smiled benevolently. "I have a very keen olfaction, you see. Your suppressants weren't nearly enough to hide your real scent from me. And you did smell – delectable."

"Should have used more aftershave," Will decided. Hannibal made a face. Of course, it was a very refined face that showed, in a very refined way, his distaste for the idea of Will stinking even more of his unrefined cologne. Lecter was such a snob, it was almost funny.

 

"Well, that is certainly... evocative," Alana finally managed.

They were having dinner at Lecter's. Why, Will had no idea, but he certainly wasn't going to complain, right until this very moment. The food was excellent, the atmosphere charming, the company exceedingly pleasant; but then the master of the house decided to show off some more of his many talents and let Alana have a look at his album conveniently placed right in the middle of the dining room where you couldn't help but notice it.

Will looked at the drawing. It was done in pencil; a man, shown from neck to waist, his chest and abdomen in full detail, down to the little mole under the man's lower ribs, on the left side. The head was thrown back, the neck open, and a lock of damp hair stuck to it, a lick of darkness on pale skin. A single drop of sweat was traveling down the man's chest, right between his pecs. The body in the drawing was on the lean side, but it did have a bit of muscle on it. And there were bruises on the man's shoulder and neck, a veritable constellation of those; some of them distinctly looked like teeth marks. The technique of the sketch, the lines, the shading, all of it was done so masterfully that the drawing looked more alive than a black-and-white photo possibly could.

And somehow, despite the image only showing the man down to the waist, it was blatantly clear that he was having sex, drawn from the point of view of the one he rode. It was evident from his pose, the tension in his muscles, the way his neck was tilted back invitingly.

And the sex, it seemed, was very, very good.

Will's cheeks felt uncomfortably warm. He could swear his body didn't actually look that nice, but, apparently, to Lecter, it did.

"This is still unfinished," Lecter gracefully inclined his head. "I have yet to have another session with the model."

Will managed to keep a perfectly straight face. He felt very proud of it later. His "hmm?" did sound entirely disinterested.

Alana eyed him suspiciously. She couldn't have possibly recognized his body, she'd never seen him fully naked, but she was smart. She must have noticed the way Hannibal licked him all over with his gaze as he put the drawing away and presented them with another fancy-pants dish.

Very subtle, that, Will thought sourly. He knew it was natural, an instinct to protect ownership, to stake claim. It just didn't stop him from wanting to maybe murder Hannibal a little bit for that. These days, he could swear Hannibal was bringing out his darkest side.

He was not a property, nor a prize; Hannibal did not have any fucking right to present him on paper like an especially artsy advertisement, to flaunt him in front of Alana like Will himself was but a piece of paper for Hannibal to sketch whatever he wanted on. It was a widely known fact that, where it concerned their omega, the alpha was not to be relied on to have sound mind and judgment. But Will genuinely believed, for some time, that Hannibal was better than that. Well, apparently not.

But the drawing was still kinda flattering.

 

"I'm not going on a new pill," Will announced during their next session. "I think I feel better, now that I'm not taking the suppressant. I definitely do sleep better; sweat less. Jack's constant fidgeting is annoying, though. But he'll live."

"I believe he will," Hannibal inclined his head. "Does it mean you are ready to find an alpha now? To settle down?"

"What? No. I'm still on birth control; so you're not becoming a father anytime soon, if that's what you mean. I hope you don't mind, because if you do, I seriously don't give a fuck," Will declared.

"As you wish," Hannibal shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "It is your decision to make, after all. I would be lying if I said I didn't want you for my own, but I am sincerely grateful to have your trust, to have you rely on me. To ask for more would be... impudent," Hannibal carefully chose the word, like a piece of garnish to put a finishing touch on another one of his gastronomic masterpieces.

Will felt relieved – and boggled. One of the two alphas he had spent a heat with before Hannibal, wanted him to have a flock of children and stay at home locked in the bedroom all the time. Any kind of a job was, of course, out of the question. All of this, he told Will while he keened and buckled, his walls tight around a massive knot that nearly threatened to split him in two. An affronted Will rapidly concocted a rough escape plan in between orgasms as his ass clenched, milking the alpha's cock, and the alpha worshipped his throat, biting gently, and then – not so gently, in a way that was bound to leave a mark.

They had first met two hours before, and Will already felt this acquaintance wasn't going to last very long.

He escaped via window. He might have flashed his lack of underwear a bit; the alpha went so far as to lock all of their clothes in a closet and put the key in a vault before falling asleep. That was frankly ridiculous. And it was his favorite shirt, too. Will vengefully stole the guy's nicest drapes for that. The impromptu toga looked bizarre, to say the least, but it got him home without losing the remnants of his dignity to casual on-lookers and any of his extremities to frostbite.

This equanimity of Hannibal’s, this respect for him as a human being and for his right to command his own body and future, was – refreshing.

Well, Hannibal himself was one of the most unusual and interesting people Will had ever known; he was right about that, the morning he first brought Will food. He was a rock to lean on, and even the toughest people sometimes needed that. Something steady; someone reliable. Someone Will could depend on to never do him wrong, no matter what happened.

The next time his heat struck, he might just ask Dr. Lecter for company.

**Author's Note:**

> This show hurts my soul and life's been shitty as of late, so I wrote stupid OOC omegaverse porn to cheer myself up. I hope it amused you a bit, too.
> 
> The perfect soundtrack for this is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dl8Yw_5Ka0A I'm so not sorry.


End file.
